The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men #7)(75)

“Damn straight,” Gally hooted, fisting his hand into the air. “Gimme my money!”

Since the only open spot to sit was an end seat on the couch next to Remy, where he’d sprawled out, practically taking up the whole damn thing, I nudged his legs aside with my knee and sat next to him.

He grinned at me and stuck a Twizzler between his teeth.

Yanking the dangling part of the Twizzler stick free, I took a big bite from the opposite end and began to chew. “The manager invited us back next month if we’re interested. I said we were.”

“Hell yes, we are,” Gally called while Holden nodded.

Remy was too busy scowling at the string of candy I’d stolen from him. Jabbing out his hand to steal it back, he growled when I was faster, taking it from my own mouth and holding it tauntingly away from him. Then I really did it; I licked the entire length, spreading my germs so he couldn’t take it back without being gross.

“Ha,” I crowed triumphantly. “I licked it, so it’s mine.” That was payback for his kicking my ass at Call of Duty.

He scowled. “Really? How mature is that?” Then, he wiggled his eyebrows. “Now, I just want it back more.”

While I sputtered out a laugh and nearly choked on my Twizzler, Gally hissed, “Sick, man. That’s disgusting. No flirting allowed here, queer.”

“Whatever,” Remy muttered, leaning forward to find the bag for a new Twizzler stick. “You’re just jealous because I didn’t hit on you.”

“Wow,” Gally said as he yanked his share of cash out of my hand. “That was totally not the case. Seriously, though, you two lovebirds sure got chummy since rooming together in Chicago.”

“Yeah.” Letting out a big, dreamy sigh, Remy pressed a hand to his chest and fluttered his lashes my way. “We bonded. It was beautiful.”

“Jesus, Sticks.” I scowled at him. “Just how drunk are you?”

He gave a husky laugh and blew me a kiss. “I’m three sheets to the wind, baby.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” I waved at Heath, motioning him to toss the bottle of vodka that was now in his possession my way. “Looks like I’m going to have to guzzle to catch up.”





After Asher took a healthy gulp from the Grey Goose, and then another, he divided the rest of the cash out by three, so Heath, he and I got equal shares. It struck me that he should take more. Not only did he do double time in the band, singing, playing an instrument, and writing all our songs, he also acted as our manager, setting up all our gigs and taking care of the business end of Non-Castrato.

I hated to admit it, but I admired the hell out him.

Half an hour later, I didn’t hate to admit it so much. I was damn eager to as I slung a plastered arm over his shoulder and slurred, “Man, I admire the hell out of you. Awesome singer, awesome musician. Amazing songwriter and even more amazing body with an ass I want to sink my teeth into. Is there anything you suck at?”

He leaned heavily against me, having just as much trouble sitting upright as I was. After squinting as if deep in thought, he admitted, “I can’t tell my left from my right.”

“Damn.” My grin was sloppy and proud. “You mean, I actually know something you don’t?”

“You should’ve seen him trying to Hokey Pokey at this wedding reception once.”

I grinned over at Gally while he laughed over the memory. “It was at the wedding where Holden here’s cousin tied the knot and...” He grinned at Heath. “Hey, remember when I used to bang her, back in the day. Man, she was a hot piece of ass.”

“Yeah,” Holden said with a dry scowl. “I remember.”

“She had a mouth made for f*cking. Plus she liked to swallow.”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” I told Asher, who laughed.

“I’m serious.” Gally scowled, kicking at my knee. “Just shut up, gay f*cker. Women’s mouths were made for a man’s dick. I’m telling you...because you wouldn’t know, nothing is as fine as a well-given blow job. And…now I want some *.”

He stumbled to his feet. “Who’s with me? Why are we still sitting back here like a bunch of losers when there’s some grade-A, half-naked bitches out there? Let’s find us some *.”

Heath stood first, and Gally cheered him on, slapping his back in congratulations. Then he turned to Asher.

“What about you, Hart? Go * hunting with us. Just this once.”

Asher actually seemed to consider the request before he shrugged and started to crawl his way off the couch. “Okay.”

“What?” I snapped my gaze to him, but he wasn’t paying me any attention, too busy trying to stand straight.

Gally clucked his tongue at me. “Sorry, gay boy. Guess that leaves you out.”

“No, Remy can still come along,” Asher argued, waving me to follow them. “He can be our wingman.”

I winced, suddenly not as drunk as I’d been seconds ago. But the idea of helping Asher score a chick left me sick to my stomach, wanting to puke all the alcohol I’d drunk.

“Or maybe he can find his own dude to score,” Asher added, sending me an encouraging grin.

I sent him a small smile. “Sure, count me in.”

Count me in? What the hell was I saying? I didn’t want to watch him pick up chicks. And yet I couldn’t not come along. I’d worry all night, wondering who he’d chosen, how pretty she was, how funny and— “All right!” Asher cheered, slugging me on the back before he slung his arm over my shoulder and crookedly steered me out of the room.